Once again I am hearing about Kongzi (that is Confucius for all you who have yet to learn Chinese, the language your grandchildren will call their “mother tongue”). Here he is after one of his countless Duke of Zhou rants:
Notice the buckteeth. Good look for him, huh?
Anyway, once again my Chinese brothers and sisters are turning to Kongzi to give their lives meaning. Seems some chick (a chick!) wrote a book about how Kongzi has so much to teach us. What a joke. Now, Kongzi was not as big of a sexist as some make him out to be. It was my boy Zhu Xi who really put women in their place. That place, BTW, is nei–leave the wai to us men. Still, I have to believe that Kongzi would agree that women authors should stick with cookbooks. One of my wives thinks that I am just hating. Yeah, you know what? It does hurt that this chick has a best seller while my masterpiece, Yan Xishan: Using Warlord Wisdom to Achieve Personal Perfection in Ten Steps has yet to break into double digit sales.
But really, I am just not into Kongzi. He is always going on and on about correct ritual practice. Clear case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)–this fool needs serious medication. As my subjects know, I am more of a freewheeling, boozing, gambling, whoring type of leader. Until Kongzi develops the correct ritual practice for doing shots of fenjiu with Mongolian hookers, he can stay the hell out of my HQ.